Ten days had passed somewhat uneventfully. My dad and I had spent time with the kids.
The weekend Scott was gone, my dad dealt with some repairs and deliveries at my place and I took the kids to the nearby renaissance faire. Scott and I had gone to faire a LOT in the early 90s. We had a huge group of friends we went with and I got in a moderate amount of trouble with my excellent friend Kathye. We drank too much, attracted a great deal of attention and generally had a fine old time.
Going with my kids was different, but just as satisfying. The faire we attended was small, which made it easy to do everything in a day. The kids favorite things to do were watch shows involving animals and magic and to throw tomatoes at the man who shouted insults while you tried to hit him in the face with fruit.
We caught the trained dog act, tossed some 'maters, ate some food and set off to wander.
My son had decided he wanted to go steampunk. We'd put in some time and money to get his outfit ready. A couple hours into our day, he decided he felt stupid wearing it and wanted something different. He would not let up on the subject. All he would talk about was what he wanted to wear next time. He kept up a running monologue about how he didn't want to wear steampunk, he felt stupid and he wanted a shirt and a hat with a feather in it.
I told him I was not going to make him a new costume and stop talking about it. He kept talking about it. I finally sat down in a pile of leaves I was so frustrated. Then he started to cry because I was upset and then I started to cry and my poor daughter sat there trying to make everyone feel better.
We finally wiped our faces and went off to find something to do. Our day ended up being very good, but our drama in the middle of it made me cranky.
The next day was wet and rainy. Since the dryer at the kids' house didn't work I took all of our laundry to my place. As the washer and dryer were doing their thing, I was surprised at how much I liked being alone. I liked the quiet. I liked how uncluttered it was. I missed my kids and kept expecting them to walk around the corner, but I was enjoying my time solo.
It did surprise me. I thought I'd be sitting around feeling sorry for myself, but it was okay. It was more than okay.
Scott came home. My dad went back to California. I went back to my house. I took my pattern back up of going to work early in the morning, seeing the kids in the afternoon and coming back to my place after I'd gotten them dinner.
I stocked my refrigerator with fruit, cheese, bread and Topo Chico waters. I made myself coffee in the mornings. I listened to a lot of music. I picked up after myself.
On the 15th, I took the day to myself. I slept in. I had bread and goat cheese with fruit for breakfast. I took a nap. I got my laundry and chores done. I started on a new painting. I went to a movie with my good friend Chris.
It looked like I was going to be okay.